


heart full of love

by courageous_boss



Series: you've always loved the strange birds [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 00:24:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17498135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/courageous_boss/pseuds/courageous_boss
Summary: Dick and Scumpo, moments in the Manor.





	heart full of love

**Author's Note:**

> Will be adding whenever I get ideas for this, so I'm marking it as complete. Subscribe if you'd like, or just check back for chapter updates. Can be read as a full piece at any time.

Three days after Alfred begins to let him roam about the Manor on his own, Dick begins searching for Scumpo. He hopes that Alfred and Damian would at least have the decency to tell him if she’d died – but even this he can’t be sure of. After all, the Alfred he’d known would have never been so cowardly as to leave Damian alone to deliver the news of Bruce’s death.

So, Dick looks and looks, keeping his efforts unknown to the other residents of the Manor. He’s so unsure of them. He can’t know if this is something he’d be scolded for. He can’t risk it.

But two days of searching turns fruitless and Dick is growing desperate.

When Bruce had still been alive, he’d insisted on Dick attending a child’s therapist. Dick had pitched a terrible tantrum and Bruce had compromised; they’d attended the meetings together. The lady was soft and gentle. She smiled a lot and the way she plaited her hair reminded Dick so very much of his mother that he liked her more just for that. The meetings weren’t at all what he’d expected. She let them move at their own pace and never once did she try to suggest Bruce leave him alone. At the end of every meeting, Dick would be sent to play with the toys and Bruce would speak to her in hushed tones. They’d tried their best to hide it, but their words sometimes floated over. Separation anxiety, she’d said, it’s to be expected.

Dick hadn’t understood it much back then. He’d liked Bruce. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t go to work with him or sleep in his room. He’d done all those things with his parents and while he knew Bruce wasn’t his father, Dick wanted to be with him. Now, unable to be with Bruce any more, Dick thinks he understands. Every night he goes without locating Scumpo, he feels sicker. It’s a desperation that wheedles down to his stomach and sometimes, Dick actually goes to the bathroom and tries to throw up. It doesn’t work. The loneliness and anxiety still sit like a heavy, burning lump at the bottom of his ribs and he _just wants it to stop_.

It’s during dinner four days after he’d started searching that it all comes to a boil.

“Eat your food,” Damian murmurs over the table. It’s just him and Dick. Alfred never joins them, has been insisting that it’s not proper even since Bruce was still alive. It’s lonely and quiet, but Dick doesn’t complain. It pains him to think that once, it had just been Damian at the table and that must have been lonelier and quieter than anything Dick could imagine.

But Dick can’t eat. He hadn’t eaten breakfast or lunch either. Thoughts of what if and why and how and a _need_ to scrunch Sucmpo’s soft fur in his hands plaguing his mind and stomach.

“I’m not hungry,” he says and hopes that somehow, Damian would understand. That’s how it had been with Bruce. They hadn’t really needed words to communicate.

Damian’s not Bruce though and Dick realizes that it’s not fair of him to expect Damian to be. That’s what he tells himself when Damian snaps, “I don’t care. Eat anyway. It’s not right to waste the food.”

Dick hides his urge to flinch away. He really, really wants Damian to like him and he knows that Damian’s only being mean because he’s sad. He tries to eat, but the food feels so heavy on his tongue that he gags and spits it out. The sound he makes is awful and ugly and Dick actually does flinch this time, unable to look at Damian and his scowling face and angry eyes.

It’s a surprise when Damian speaks, because instead of harsh yelling, his voice is soft and hesitant.

“Are you ill?” Damian asks, and he doesn’t sound angry.

Dick isn’t sure how to answer. He _feels_ ill, but he knows that it's just him missing Scumpo. So, he ignores the question and asks, “Um, where is Scumpo?”

Damian’s face scrunches up in confusion and he suddenly looks so much younger. He also looks a lot like Bruce, but Dick doesn’t let his thought stick there too long.

 “My dog. I think–” Dick swallows, eyes burning and the back of his mouth feeling like it was closing. “I think you shot here. When you shot me. I haven’t seen her since. Is she okay?”

Again, Damian’s face looks soft and understanding, so unlike his usual cold demeanour that Dick is taken off guard. It’s almost frightening how different Damian’s moods are, and how quickly he manages to switch between them.

“Scumpo? That’s her name?” Damian asks.

“Yes, she’s mine.”

“She’s okay. Better now actually. We got a vet in to treat her and she’s on a special kibble to bring her weight up. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you earlier, I just assumed you’d found her by now.”

The manor’s huge and Dick hadn’t really explored much of it before. He’d spent most of his time glued to Bruce’s side and that had restricted him to their bedrooms, the main sitting room and the Cave. It’s mostly his fault that he doesn’t know his way around by now and he tells Damian as much.

“It’s not your fault,” Damian shakes his head.

Before Dick can refute, Damian is standing pushing his still half-full plate to the centre of the table. He holds out a hand for Dick and only once Dick works up the courage to latch on does Damian begin making his way around the Manor. Damian gives him a tour similar to the one Alfred had given him when he’d first arrived all those years ago and Dick does his best to commit them to memory.

Finally, _finally_ , they stop at a room and Damian pushes open the heavy oak doors. There’s hardly enough time for the doors to open before there’s the fast clipping of claws against polished, mahogany floors and the warm, wet feeling of happy licks at Dick’s toes. That’s all it takes really, for the heavy feeling to float away and as Dick sinks to the ground, giggling as Scumpo enthusiastically greets him, Damian can't keep the fond smile from his face.


End file.
